


Crossroads

by castaliareed



Series: Snowcastles [9]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Modern with Magic, F/M, Not really any smut is this part of the story, Politics and Porn, Sansa needs a joint, glass candles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-24
Updated: 2018-05-24
Packaged: 2019-05-13 03:45:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,875
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14741417
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/castaliareed/pseuds/castaliareed
Summary: Sansa and Jon stop at the Inn at the Crossroads on their way to Great Council. They continue to unravel the mysterious and motivations of their political opponents.





	Crossroads

**Author's Note:**

> Apologies for a bit of the wait on this part. This is the second to last part of this story! (I hope...) There isn't really any smut in this part. I promise I'll make up for it in the next part! 
> 
> Hope you enjoy!

_Jon lunged toward Theon, Sansa grabbed his arm to stop him from tripping over the pants that were around his ankles. Remembering that she was naked too, he tried to shield her body. "Get out," he yelled. Theon turned on his heel, sauntering out of the Library. Jon swore he heard the man whistling._

_Sansa's fingers dug into his sides, she leaned her forehead into his chest. Jon wrapped a protective arm around her. "We should dress," he whispered to her. They put their clothes back on. Sansa said she wanted to go find Arya. Jon thought he should hunt down Theon and see why the Greyjoy had shown up at Winterfell. Something to do with the Great Council, no doubt. The family was wealthy from shipping. Since the death of his uncle during the war with the undead, Theon's sister Asha had taken control of their home in the Iron Islands. Decidedly independent, Jon knew if he could bring them back into the fold of mainland Westeros that would help their cause. 'But did we want them back?'_

_Jon found Theon waiting in his office, sat on a couch with his dark brown boots on a coffee table. Jon cringed. At least, Theon had the sense to stand when Jon walked in. Dressed in worn designer jeans, a dark shirt, and a dark brown leather jacket. Everything on him was expensive and made to look used. Jon could even see the gold chain around his neck._

_"Well, seeing is believing..." Theon said to Jon as he rose. "I figured those pictures were fake. Staged or photoshopped. Then you had that conference...still...I didn't quite believe it." Theon shook his finger at Jon and chuckled. "Thought, maybe you were using the whole story to keep Daenerys away. Didn't think you had it in ya...to fuck Sansa Stark."_

_"Don't talk about her like that," Jon growled taking a step towards the man._

_Theon slapped his thigh, "Ay, nothing to be ashamed of...mate. That made my day. If I didn't know better I'd say ya two like the audience."_

_Jon moved like a flash grabbing Theon by the collar, "Say it again, say one more thing."_

_"Hey, hey...I'll forget I even saw it," Theon choked out._

_"Because you helped her before, I won't kill ya." Jon gave him one good shake then let him go. They were silent for a few moments. His grey eyes burning into Theon. He hated that it was Theon who had helped Sansa when she was coming North after leaving her University in the Vale. She was coming to him in the far North. Coming to escape. Coming to tell him she planned to get their home back. Jon closed his eyes. He tried to forget the past. Those things had happened before...before the dead came....before the peace was negotiated...before Cersei took her._

_"Why are you here?" Jon broke the silence with a question._

_"Asha wanted me to come," he said. "She said make sure they don't fuck shit up."_

_"Your sister's got a lot of faith in us," he said walking to the large desk in the room and sitting down behind it. Theon moved to take a chair in front of him._

_"Hm...I wouldn't say that. But she doesn't think Daenerys plays fair," Theon said. Jon knew Daenerys wasn't playing fair. They needed to prove it._

_"She doesn't have dragons anymore," Jon said. 'At least she doesn't have dragons. They died in the war against the dead.'_

_"Ahh fuck the dragons. It's the drugs," Theon said. "And...other things...and...her people, the imp, they've been trying to strong arm our captains into helping...Asha doesn't like it..." Jon rubbed his beard then pounded his fist on the desk._

_"We leave in three days for the Great Council, I want you with us," he said._

_"But the Council isn't for three weeks?" Theon questioned him._

_"We have things to take care of Greyjoy," Jon said staring down at the man across from him._

*****

****Sansa** **

The party entered the door of the Inn at the Crossroads. It was a historic building, one that had existed in that very same spot on the north side of the river Trident since Westeros' earliest days. It had been rebuilt and renovated more times than anyone knew. The rooms they were given had modern conveniences combined with the perfect vintage charm. The Brotherhood ran the inn, though Sansa knew that was kept quiet. Friends of Arya's, the Heddle sisters managed the inn and it's adjoining tavern. They even let Ghost stay with them baring he remained in the suite of rooms Jon and Sansa were given.

Everyone was relieved to reach the inn. It had been the second day of their drive from Winterfell. Jon had insisted on driving to Harrenhal, where the Great Council would be held instead of flying. Sansa knew they had work to do. This would give them a chance to meet with supporters in the Riverlands in the final stretch leading up to the vote of the lords and ladies at the Council.

The night before, they had been at Moat Caillin, where Sansa had spent the better part of the evening speaking with Meera Reed about glass candles. The things Lady Dustin had told them about. She understood less about these supposed magical objects then she had before. A night at the inn would be a chance to put her concerns and worries aside, she hoped. Their party was large and Sansa worried that there would not be enough room. Jeyne Heddle assured her that all would be well. Some suites would have to be shared. Sam and Satin were with them to advise Jon. The two men graciously agreed to share a suite. Theon Greyjoy, however, did not. Unless he said, Lady Smallwood, who had traveled back to the Riverlands with them, shared the room with him. Sansa was relieved to hear Lady Smallwood politely decline, reminding Greyjoy that she was in fact married. 

 Arya and Ned, of course, were given the honeymoon suite that Jeyne Heddle assured would be very romantic. She also told Sansa that a large suite for her and the King would be prepared. Willow, Jeyne's shorter sister, winked when she assured Sansa it would be very private. Somehow the sisters found rooms for their security guards. Sansa noticed that Willow Heddle winked at Brienne, too, when she told the woman she could go straight up to her suite. 

They took their dinner in the old tavern. There had been a deck added to the building to give patrons a view of the river. There were lanterns lighting the outside of the building and inside candlelight on the tables added to the fairy lights around the bar. Sansa wanted to pretend, she had traveled back in time to a Westeros with knights on horseback and ladies in long gowns. 

The Heddle sisters wanted to celebrate Arya's wedding firmly in the present in this ancient tavern. Jon whispered in Sansa's ear that it was so old it looked like it might fall over when they walked from their suite to the tavern. Locals from the region poured in and the party would turn into a raucous affair, Sansa was sure of it. She knew that most of the attendees were associated with the Brotherhood. Arya's marriage to Ned only strengthened the connection. 

The low-lighting in the room, cast warm shadows on the walls. They danced in time to the music that played from speakers hung on the ceilings. Food was brought out, placed buffet style on the tables. Roasted vegetables, beef, chicken, the food was hearty and delicious. Ale flowed, Sansa nursed a glass of dornish red wine. Jon was pulled deep into conversation with Lord Beric, the cantankerous leader of the Brotherhood without Banners. The music grew louder as the party grew drunker. 

No one noticed a figure sitting in the shadows at the back of the tavern. Sansa would not have seen him, had Brienne not moved to sit next to him. She approached her friend and Ser Jaime Lannister. Knighted in the old tradition, Sansa wondered what the title meant to a man with such a poor reputation.  _What did such titles mean anymore,_ _anyways?_   Brienne welcomed her to their table. Sansa noticed their hands grazing each others' underneath the table. She greeted the Lannister man with a tentative hello, trying to muster some warmth for the brother and well-known former lover of the woman who had kept her imprisoned in a rehab center for three or was it four months.  _Just to ruin my reputation. Just so people would think I was sick and incapable._

Ser Jaime leaned forward, close to Sansa's face, "I'm sorry for what my sister did to you. I truly am. I wanted to stop it. Tried...I just..." his voice trailed off. 

"Ser Jaime, why...did you leave her?" Sansa asked the question coming out before she could bite her tongue.  _That was not polite._

"Really, I left Cersei a long time ago," he said glancing at Brienne. Had it not been so dark Sansa would've sworn her friend was blushing. "But we fought again after she had you taken. She broke the truce. And I couldn't support her anymore. She said all it cost her to get you was one little shipment of drugs. Please forgive for not doing more."

"There is nothing to forgive, my lord," she said. "There is nothing you could do to stop it." Jaime leaned back with a sigh. 

"I believe my brother saw you while you were at that rehab center," he said. Brienne's eyes widened in surprise. 

"I don't recall that..." Sansa said watching the candlelight play with the reds in the wine. The dreams had been coming more frequently. She never remembered Tyrion being there and yet somehow she knew he had seen her at the center. That was worse, knowing there were parts she could not remember. That was terrible. 

"I was afraid you wouldn't," Jaime added. He seemed to think for a moment before changing the subject. "There are people in the Westerlands that want to support you," he said, adding "And him.." with a glance across the room to Jon who was still speaking with Lord Beric. 

"Brienne tells me you love him," he said to Sansa. She started to object and Brienne looked down at her hands. 

"I know what it is to love someone you shouldn't," Jaime stated. He eyed Brienne, "To be honest can't say I think much of him." Sansa always suspected Brienne only tolerated Jon as well. Ser Jaime's words did not surprise her. She wondered what the two discussed in private. "But you and your advisors are the much better choice."

Sansa felt the corners of her mouth raise ever so much. She wanted to tell him that it would be Jon that would wear the crown not her but the Lannister man kept talking. 

"And I would like to live out my days in peace at my home in Casterly Rock. Forced retirement suits me," he said holding up his prosthetic hand.  The replacement for a hand lost in some battle not so long ago. "These pieces of junk are quite good these days but not good enough to be back in the field." He took a long swig of his ale. 

"Unfortunately, my peace has been disturbed," he said. Sansa knew Jaime was running the government in the Westerlands alongside elected officials, in however laissez-faire manner that might be, he was in charge.  _When you are in charge you never have peace,_  she wanted to tell him but held her tongue. 

"I'm sorry to hear that," Sansa said instead, her years of practiced politeness finally coming out of her mouth. 

Jaime gave her sardonic smile, "I'm sure you are.  My brother visited me and he was very angry when he left Casterly Rock. 'You promised' and 'We had a deal I overheard him say on the phone,'" Sansa felt her mask of politeness crack at another mention of Lord Tyrion. 

"You see, there was a shipment of shade-of- the-evening intercepted in Lannisport. It was too easy. A tip-off my police said. We questioned the smugglers. They didn't give up much. But their boat did. Military grade. They weren't from the Iron Islands. The boats were too good and Asha Greyjoy doesn't like that stuff. And the Qartheen smugglers move through Bravos. Only a group like the Windblown could do it."

Sansa felt her stomach turn.  _One little shipment of drugs,_  he had said. She wished Jon was next to her but he was still engrossed in conversation. 

"You think Cersei knew about it? You think...she allowed for...?" Brienne asked. 

"I know she did. That was supposed to be the price she paid for this one here." He gestured to Sansa. "Until she changed her mind and stopped it. They had been trying to bring in drugs to the west for years Finally thought they had their chance." He laughed. 

"Who? The windblown?" Sansa asked even though she knew the answer. 

"And Daenerys...yes. Meereen, Pentos, the economies are shite. Oh, she was right to end forced labor. Can you believe they still had that in this day and age?" Jaime shook his head. "She was right in that. But peace is expensive."

Sansa blinked, "She needs a way to pay for it all. Re-build things. But drugs...even Daenerys...she wouldn't." 

Jaime nodded. "People get desperate when they need to stay in power. When they need to feed their people. Westeros could be a cash cow for her cities. And forgive me for saying this...but there was only one person standing in the way of an alliance with him." He pointed again to Jon, who had now seemed to notice who Sansa was talking with. She saw his eyes narrow while he sat between Lord Beric and Ned Dayne not listening to what they were saying. 

Sansa did not know whether to tell Jaime Lannister that they had only just discovered the truth about Jon. That their relationship was new...so very new. "How could I stand in the way when Jon and I only recently..." she started to say. 

Jaime laughed, "You know that didn't matter. There was only ever going to be one Lady of Winterfell." 

Sansa tried to remember the time before she was in the rehab center. There was the war against the undead army. And there was a war before that. Jon was there by her side. After they had lost most of their family except for Arya and Bran. It had been her and Jon fighting, leading, starting to re-build. Sansa shook her head. It was best not to think on those things. Not now...

"I hate to admit it but Jon did always love you, Sansa," Brienne reminded her. Sansa ignored her friend's comment.

"So you mean to tell me that the dragon queen has taken to the drug trade and helped Cersei kidnap me because she's jealous and needs money?" Sansa asked forgetting any politeness. 

"Some things are as simple as that, my lady," Jaime said.  Sansa felt anger rising in her belly.  

"You tell me all this. And...and what are we supposed to do about it," Sansa demanded. "We have no proof. A proper investigation will take months. The Great Council is in less than three weeks. Who knows what they will do..."

"Don't worry. You won't have to do anything," Ser Jaime said scanning the room. "I've had the initial reports leaked to the press. The Brotherhood has been useful for a change in providing all kinds of evidence against the dragon queen."

Sansa opened her mouth to speak, the words would not come out. She wrung her hands still angry and now worried. It was a dangerous game he wanted to play. "Why, why are you helping us?"

Ser Jaime was quiet for a moment, he played with the cuff of his shirt sleeve. "I told you, you are the better choice, my lady." Sansa pursed her lips knowing it was more than that.  Brienne rested her hand on Ser Jaime's thigh, willing him to continue, "I wasn't with Cersei anymore but I didn't want to see her die." He leaned toward Sansa from across the table to add, "And I know that they had something to do with it." Sansa felt her eyes close. Ser Jaime got up to get himself another drink. Brienne tried to talk with Sansa more about what Jaime had told her. But her mind was distracted. When Jaime returned she excused herself. 

Sansa walked outside onto the deck, the air was cool. There was a strong wind blowing over the river that flowed behind the inn. She wondered how many generations of Westerosi had looked out at this river.   _My_   _ancestors, perhaps. My mother had come from the Riverlands. Born at Riverrun the paramount house of the region._  There were lanterns lighting the deck. They blew in the wind. Sansa's long hair whipped around her face. She listened for whispers of the past. Perhaps, they would tell her what to do. She thought of the Beachhouse and for the first time she wished she had stayed there instead of going to Barrowtown. The pictures would never have been taken. She and Jon would never have started... _we would never have started loving each other._ Sansa knew that was impossible _. Brienne is right he always loved me._ Sansa should be happy but the thought made her sad. 

 Jon had asked her to stay in Winterfell and she could tell him she wanted to go back. That it was all too much for her. The dreams come every night now. Sam and Arya could help Jon at the Great Council. If she wasn't there maybe...just maybe... he could persuade Daenerys to accept a generous trade deal and leave them in peace. But what if...what if he would have to placate her in other ways. The thought made Sansa feel even sicker.  

The wind blew again. It sounded as if it was whispering to her. The words became clearer, "It's true what Lady Dustin said to you about the glass candles," a voice said. Sansa turned toward the words to see a figure stepping out of the shadows. Meera Reed's small frame came into the lantern light. "We looked into it." 

"What do we do?" Sansa asked also wondering how Meera got there from Moat Caillin so quickly. 

Meera took a lighter out of her pocket with one hand, in the other hand she handed Sansa a joint. "It will help you with the dreams and it's certainly not shade-of-the-evening, that stuff kills," Meera said. Sansa took them from her cupping her hands so she could light the joint despite the wind which seemed to have calmed. 

"Do you want to see the truth?" Meera asked. 

Sansa took her time to respond. Did she want to know? Inhaling the smoke from the joint. She wanted to understand. "What does it matter if we can't do anything about it?" she asked. 

"That's not for me to decide," Meera said. The girl's cryptic answer reminded Sansa of her brother Bran. _No wonder the two liked each other. "_ The glass candles are burning. You'll find one in your room. And Lady Sansa the heart wants what it wants. Bran wanted me to tell you that." Sansa said nothing, continuing to smoke the joint, inhaling and exhaling. When she turned to pass it to Meera the other woman was gone. 

Alone, she studied the lanterns each a different color. Taking long slow inhales from the joint. The wind was colder again. She thought of being in her bed at Winterfell alone without Jon's warm arms. From inside she could hear Arya's laughter, her sister was happy. Despite it all, the politics, the wars, and how young they were, Ned Dayne made her sister happy. Sansa wondered if she and Jon could find that.  _Find that happy love, together._ They could build something, a new world for themselves. Sansa knew they would have to build a new world for the North and if they were successful for Westeros, too. That was their duty. It was what so many from Ser Jaime to Lady Dustin to the Brotherhood were asking of them. 

Soft footsteps came up behind her. "Are you going to share?" Jon asked. His hands found her waist. Sansa did not turn. Jon moved her hair to kiss her neck. She held the joint up for him to take. "Ya think someone's out there taking pics?"

Sansa laughed, "Let them...by tomorrow I don't think there will be much we could do that will be worse than what Daenerys has been doing." 

"Can we talk about that later," he said. Sansa nodded. Jon kept his arms around her waist. She leaned into his chest. He moved so he was leaning against the railing of the deck. Facing each other, they finished the joint between his kisses.   
"I love you, you know that right," he said brushing her hair from her face.   
"I think your drunk," she said smelling the ale on his breath. 

"Aye, maybe I am and I love you," he said. She smiled. 

"I love you, too," she said. He kissed her. Even if Sansa wanted to there was no turning back. She refused to leave the man she loved to face what was ahead alone even if it broke her. The road they would take was leading to the Great Council at Harrenhal. There was no other path to take. At least not one their people would let them take.  _Was this love or was this duty?_   She wondered if it was both. 

"Some might not think it's right but I've always loved you even when..." he said.

"Now, I know you're really drunk," she laughed. Sansa's lips found his. "I think I'm tired."

"Yea let the kids party tonight," he said. They both laughed knowing they were still kids themselves. Taking her hand, Jon guided her inside avoiding the main room of the tavern and heading for the hallway leading back to the wing of the Inn where their rooms were located. 

Sansa climbed the stairs following Jon to the suite they were sharing. It had an anteroom and a bedroom, large and airy despite the low ceilings and historic decor. Sansa paused a moment before opening the door, Meera's words coming back to her. She turned to kiss Jon one more time before scanning the suite's key card and turning the handle.  When they opened the door a strange light appeared, it was bright. Brighter than any light Sansa had ever seen. On a table in the room was a black obsidian candle. Jon looked confused.  _The glass candles are burning._ The shadows were black inky pools of nothing. The white sheets on the bed were as bright at snow in the middle of winter in the North. The orangish lamplight from a lamp on a nightstand was like flames. 

"Your hair's on fire," was all Jon said. 


End file.
